


100 Kinks Challenge #46 - glory hole

by winchestersinthedrift



Series: 100 Kinks Challenge [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blow Jobs, Glory Hole, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-30
Updated: 2016-07-30
Packaged: 2018-07-28 07:20:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7630504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/winchestersinthedrift/pseuds/winchestersinthedrift





	100 Kinks Challenge #46 - glory hole

Compared to the last time Sam was in town, your place is a mess. Not just a mess - a _disaster_ of particle board and unassembled cabinets.

‘I’m knocking this out,’ you say, kicking a foot at what used to be the wall between the hall and a bedroom. It’s half sledge-hammered through, now, one big chunk still mostly intact.

‘I can see that,’ says Sam, and laughs. You’ve got your ass against the kitchen counter and Sam’s standing in front of you, kissing along your jaw, all teeth and tongue. He strips your tshirt up over your head and you put your hands behind you, gripping the edge of the counter, and then he’s pressing right flush against you and puts his hands over both of yours, deliberate, purposeful. He kisses you, deep and slow, all the leonine strength and power of him in his mouth and tongue and the hungry angle of his jaw. Then he’s rubbing against you, not shy but thrusting, eager, getting a hand around your ass to pull your hips against his and rut against the line of your cock and god, you’re a grunting mess, trying to keep the keening in your throat till he says ‘no, baby, make that noise for me,‘ and you moan like someone’s putting you over the fucking coals.

Sam’s breath catches and he steps back, pulls you towards the half-demolished wall.

‘Show me you want it,’ he says, voice in the particular timbre that makes the muscles in your belly tighten. He steps up right against the wall and you’re still not quite sure what he means till he unzips his jeans and lets them fall down around his knees and oh _jesus_ he’s tall enough that the hole in the wall is centred right in front of -

You go around, staggering, lust-blind, and his cock’s right there, framed in a soft thatch of hair and around it the jagged edge of the hole in the drywall. It’s fully erect and _big_ , lower-end porn star big, and two dusky-blue veins cross over each other on the underside of the shaft. While you’re looking it jerks twice and you can hear something - the side of Sam’s fist? - hit the other side of the wall.

‘ _Show_ me,’ he says, and you’re already on your knees and gripping a hand around the root of his dick, sinking your mouth around its head. The scent of him’s in your face and mouth and fingers, musk and arousal and a faint trace of generic hotel soap, and you taste a smear of pre-come as your tongue finds his slit. There’s a fumbling hunger in the faux-anonymity of it, your other hand braced against the drywall and your knees digging into wood shavings and rough crumbs of plaster. You like the discomfort, the narrowing down of sensation to the wall in front of you and Sam’s cock choking, subsuming you, scraping along your soft palate, the salty tang of him sharper now. You’re in the selfsame moment used and using, flesh-unseen become the active instrument of his pleasure. You take a hand off the wall and start to play with yourself, drawing your foreskin down over your shaft and thumbing the sensitive ridge of your crown and you make a noise, muted and indistinct, tongue fluttering against the underside of Sam’s cock.

‘So hot,’ he says through the wall, and your cock jerks in your fist. ‘Gonna come round and fuck you right into the floor.’


End file.
